‘How big is St Peter’s?’ he said. ‘It’s as big as a cow byre. You can’t even pray there. No one can pray in a cow byre. The angels that hold up the holy water stoup, the smallest ones, are as big as these doors.’

‘Then you need a ladder to reach the holy water?’

‘No, because they’re kneeling, I think. Give me a bit more coffee, Mama. Is there any?’

‘Of course there is. You’ve come back home as hungry as a shark, my little Paolo.’

‘You know what! I’ve seen dolphins in the sea. Oh, here are our guests. Good morning.’

Telling them of the meeting with her husband, Giovanna could not hold back the tears, but Porredda took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen.

‘You need all your strength today, my dear,’ she said, handing the girl a large cup of coffee. ‘Drink it up, now.’

A little later the two women left for the court, Paolo promising to join them there.

‘Have courage,’ said Porredda. Giovanna could hear her husband’s conviction in her hostess’s voice, and she departed with the look of a whipped dog.

Paolo followed her with his eyes. Then he said a strange thing. ‘You know what? In two years’ time that young woman will be married again.’

‘What do you mean, Dr Littlefoot?’ cried his mother, who always called her son by his nickname when she was angry with him. ‘You’re talking nonsense.’

‘Oh, Mother, I’ve been across the sea! Let’s hope, anyway, that she’ll take me on as her lawyer!’

‘That young man wolfs his food,’ Giovanna said to her mother as they went down a steep alleyway. ‘May the Lord have mercy on him.’

Bachisia was walking along deep in thought. ‘He’ll make a good lawyer,’ she replied between clenched teeth. ‘He’ll gnaw his clients to the bone. Then he’ll swallow them whole.’

Silent again, they walked on. A moment later Bachisia stumbled, and as she did so it came to her out of the blue that if one day her daughter were to apply for a divorce, she would ask Paolo to be their lawyer.

When they reached the court-house its windows were still reflecting the early-morning sun. In the little square, a few people from Giovanna’s village, who were to be witnesses at the trial, gathered round the two women, trying to sustain them with the usual phrases, ‘Bear up! Have courage!’

‘We’ve plenty of that,’ Bachisia said, striding along, proud as a wild mare. ‘Leave us alone, now.’ Knowing the way well by this time, they went straight to the dreaded courtroom. Giovanna walked in behind her mother, followed by the others, among them a handful of layabouts and a lanky, toothless woman with a squint.